Bloom

Author : Caleb David Duku

Open,

Glide,

Move with grace and savvy,

To your lover,

Stretch,

Grow,

Move with love and purpose,

To kiss the lips of the sun you love,

Bloom.

Martyr

Author: Caleb David Duku

Fighting for the invisible,

That never seen,

That I do not believe in,

And that which I only dream,

It brings my end,

My fall,

And my rise,

To sit atop the stars,

And whisper among the angels.

Justified

Author: Caleb David Duku

I look into eyes,

Which ripple with pain,

Fear,

Indignation,

And I feel,

Fear,

Indignation,

Because I caused them.

But,

I was,

Justified.

Home

Author: Caleb David Duku

Where the heart is,

Is a distant place,

Imaginary in the haze,

Real in a phase,

Will I ever get

Home?

Ever

Author: Caleb David Duku

Infinite,

Eternal,

Immortality is a lie,

Elongation is a silent crime,

No one can have forever,

But forever can have me,

A humble servant,

To an aging eternal master,

I am yours,

4,

Ever.

Cut

Author: Caleb David Duku

Flash,

Fast,

I feel no pain,

But it seeps out,

Red and hot,

Dim,

Slow,

I believe I am,

Cut.

The Greatest Ever

Good Friends and people

Phrases that made my life

I love you – Mrs. Duku

Shut up - Michael Duku

Chale I no dey biz – Dozy

BOLOOOOOOOOOOO – Isaac Opoku and Andrew Asare

Chale anything for my niggas – MriCook

Niggas who don’t believe in themselves, I hate that shit – Darkowaa

Chale 1 woman only, don’t be a dog – Jerry

Caleb clean your room – Lado

Middle Finger to the law, nigga gripping my balls – Jigga

When I grow up I want to be famous – Pussy cat dolls

I am not guilty – O.J Simpson

Chale we dey go Hollywood – Elorm Goka

Cally Cal!!! – Nah Densua

Everything I’m not makes me everything I am – Kanye West

Don’t do Drugs – Barnie

My lifes a bitch – Dwayne Michael Carter

Real Gangstas and thugs – RGT

With my ego I could stand here in a speedo and look like a fucking hero – Kanye West

We are messed up! – Nikita Lithur

**To aspire for greatness keep good friends like I have, to everyone whose name is up here, except the artists, thank you**

Middle Finger Up

Author: Caleb David Duku

This middle finger flies up,

For all the times I was told santa was real,

For when I was told crack was snow that lacked appeal,

For all the times a nude scene was on

And I was told – Cover your eyes!

You can’t look till you’re grown.

For the many times I was told don’t play in the dirt,

Tie your shoe strings and button up your shirt.

For the times I was scolded for my hand in the pot,

I clearly remember the phrase –

“Robbers do get shot!!”

For the brief moment in history

When I was told to be a man,

Not to cry but to fight back,

Is that a plan?

For the times when I wanted a fro,

And I was cropped of bald,

Like the itsy bitsy spider

My hair came down.

This middle finger is dedicated to life,

To all that it teaches us,

Through pain and through strife,

The fun times and the sad,

This finger is not a diss,

Its my simple way to reminisce,

That life could have fucked me,

But it hasn’t,

So I put four fingers down,

And one stays standing,

The one in the middle.

Jinx

Author: Caleb David Duku

The words are said,

Invisible knots are tied,

And then loosened,

We realize that we,

Uttered at the same time,

Words which require patience,

And time to be brewed,

We jinxed,

The only thing,

Which kept us here,

Jinx.

Mirage of Dust

Author: Caleb David Duku

The scene is perfect,

The wind swirls around her,

Wrapping her in a dust coated layer,

Of Beauty,

Of splendour,

Of unsurpassed rareness.

Through the haze I see,

Her eyes,

Her lips,

Her breasts,

Each strikingly similar,

Yet different from the other.

The scene is perfect,

Her frame stands out in the brown air,

A Babylonian jug,

The modicum of her frame,

It is filled with dust,

Layers and layers,

Of Love,

Of compassion,

Of emotions,

Each strikingly familiar,

Yet different from the other.

The scene is perfect,

Her eyes easily discernible,

The brightest thing around,

Easily outshining the sun,

They are glassed over by dust,

But still they are full,

Of Lust,

Of eroticism,

Of passion,

Each strikingly familiar,

Yet different from the other.

The scene is perfect,

Wait!

No,

It is not.

There is dust,

Layers and layers of dust,

It is full,

Of Nothing,

Of air,

Of space,

Each strikingly similar,

Yet different from the other.

Lie

Author: Caleb David Duku

I,

Lie,

With you,

To you,

Prepositions change my position,

Like lovers in heated frenzy,

Sweet words pour from a paralleled heaven,

I,

Lie,

With you,

To you.

Letters

Author: Caleb David Duku

Majestic and beautiful,

Macedonian queen,

Medallion upon a fragmented heart.

Moccasin textured,

Moistened palms,

Mangrove of an escaping love.

Machinist of a heartbeat,

Moor of beauty,

M,

Mine forever and yet never mine,

Misunderstood but perfectly clear,

Mine never, never, never.

Combust

Author: Caleb David Duku

I

Light the match

And flame billows up

Filling up my nostrils and rolling down my gut

Attacks of panic,

or

Asthmatic seizures,

Might just be enough to stop me smoking reefer

But

I take totes and my mind goes hazy

So I can cloud the pain

Of a love so shady.

Whoever thought - that green pastures would burn,

Or – a flower that I bloomed would die so early,

Aut-umn.

To clear the smoke I open windows up,

A mental air conditioner

On a damn windy day.

Pain is an illusion,

But all this smoke is real

However its gone now

And there is nothing left to burn,

But the combustible tank of emotion and regret

Which I call

My heart.

Falling stars

Author : Caleb David Duku

White,

Light,

Weightless under the influence of gravity,

Sobriety is not an option,

White,

Night,

The ground is littered in beauty,

Falling stars fall no more,

White,

White,

Falling stars return to the bosom of the universe no more.

A whole year round

Author: Caleb David Duku

Summer dawn breaks through the dense clouds,

A golden ray hurtles down to your eyes,

The morning calls with open hands,

A whole year round,

Has come again.

The cold breath of air pricks your yellow skin,

And maturity of womanhood begins to set in,

Life beckons you with all its joys,

A whole year round,

Has come again.

To think that 365,

Would come so quick as the blink of an eye,

Don’t think just act,

A whole year round,

Has come again.

So may you cherish this day forever,

Close to your bosom warm and tender,

17 will surely pass,

A whole year round,

Has come again.

Would I??

Would I??

Author: Caleb David Duku

If you were to come on bended knees,

If you were to cry out your soul,

And beg and plead,

Would I give you the world?

If you were to kiss me under the mistletoe,

And think yourself lucky,

Would I swim through the fragrance your heart,

Would I give you the world?

If you were the queen of my chequered heart,

And I the knight to save you,

Would I parry a strike with my love,

Would I give you the world?

If you were the jaded moon,

And I was the lake you shone your light through,

Would I let you see into my soul deep,

Would I give you the world?

If you were the world to me,

Then what more could I give?

Woud I break it down,

Bit by bit,

Then put it back together for you?

Would I give you the world?

Breath

Author: Caleb David Duku

Breath

Sweet,

Tingly,

The feel of you against the roof of my mouth,

The feel of you in the depths of my body,

Refreshing,

Caressing,

The feel of you,

As we move,

Out,

And in,

In,

And out.

Look beneath the cypress tree

Author: Caleb David Duku

Dedicated to change

Look beneath the cypress tree

Look beneath the cypress tree,

Seeds of treasure await you there.

Cloistered in sandy breathless walls,

They lie in surrender to an invisible God.

Look beneath the cypress tree,

Roots and veins await you there.

Intertwined with the wisdom of the years,

They forever race after the hands of time.

Look beneath the cypress tree,

A budding beauty awaits you there.

Racing through the dense air,

As its green lips kiss the rosy red of its lover.

Look beneath the cypress tree,

A world of wonder awaits you there.

As it revolves and arch’s its back,

To greet the sun in warm reprieve.

Look beneath the cypress tree,

And you will find what it is you seek.

The freedom and the joy to love again,

Awaits you there.

Imagine my heart

Author: Caleb David Duku

Dedicated to David Duku

Imagine my heart was filled to the brim,

With pain which only you could trim.

Imagine it wailed and cried out blood,

Which repeatedly caused your eyes to flood.

Imagine that you and I were one,

And then my heart wholesome becomes.

Imagine that you and I were fools,

And this would cause my heart beat anew,

Imagine my heart,

Imagine my heart.

Imagine my heart was yours for life,

And that it would steer you clear of strife.

Imagine it sang and called for you,

And all you did was call out too.

Not run or hop

Or skip or jump

To the steady beat that my heart pumps.

Imagine my heart,

Imagine my heart.

Imagine my heart was a blood red diamond,

And you locket shaped it into an almond,

And bit

And chewed without remorse,

Until upon your lips it bled its course.

Imagine it froze for a minute or two,

And only you revive it could.

Imagine my heart,

Imagine my heart.

Imagine my heart was a rose to thee,

And trod upon it you did gracefully.

Imagine that the pace at which it beats,

Was doubled when I did hear your feet.

Not when your face I saw,

Or your sweet lips taste.

Imagine my heart,

Imagine my heart.

Vision of a Mother

Author: Caleb David Duku

Dedicated to Mrs. Rosaline A. Duku

Vision of a mother

Her supple lips do crease my brows,

Her kiss spoken soft like tender vows,

Her imprint cold,

A wisp of winter,

She whispers softly into my ears,

Her voice is low but crystal clear,

The words that part from her lips,

She holds dear,

As tendrils on a plant so rare,

She looks into my eyes and says,

“You are my son, my love, my gain,”

Day by day she sees me grow,

Like plants that bloom after winters snow,

She hugs me tight and holds me close,

She whispers again,

Saying,

“I’ll never let go,”

Those words are empty,

But full of love,

Born from a mother’s womb above,

She loosens her grip,

And says to me,

“You are my son, so please do shine bright,”

Now I am old and growing still,

So I hold her close,

And whisper at will,

I kiss her cheeks,

And rosy they’ll be,

As I tell her that my only love is she,

She looks at me with teary eyes,

Full of joy and far from strife,

And once again she says to me,

“You are my son, my love my all.”

Curvature

Author: Caleb D. Duku

Curvature

A winding staircase of flesh forbidden

To the dry tongues of the desert

-ed soul, broken for a fix, mends

my desire, my longing to

hold gently onto heave-

n’ know that I yield

Succumbing to your vibe-

Rations are needed to keep

me alive and in check from the war-

ease with which I am tendered daily

Loving hands nurture me like plants among-

st-rong friends weather me down they do with-

out a care-ess to my cheek and a boon to my name.

My pain is now lost to your bosom, the curves drip of my tears

Rain falls from a mountain of soft skin and pours over into a valley of

the sweetest arrow –marred heart, scars of love and pain are deep within

this soul for running from a shadow of yourself is impossible, your love is

dual, doubly folded into my palms, the softest Persian fabrics of the

world is within my grasp, within the reach of my mind and

I sew and I knit it until it forms an eternal curve of

Beauty and love which is you and i.

Generation Me

Generation Me

I’m young and I’m black,

But I don’t sniff crack,

Cracking my knuckles trying to figure out a math problem

Not trying to figure out how to get my jeans below my stark black bottom,

I send my white friend a message saying Xoxo,

She falls back in fear and exclaims,

Woah!

I’m thinking hugs and kisses,

She’s sitting there thinking sniper marks and bullets,

The fact that I’m black don’t mean I’m deadly,

I’m just born into it,

Ivory and ebony.

But generation me is not about my colour,

Not about my height or about my gender,

Its about the will and the fire I have in my soul,

Not about whether I look like Nat king Cole,

So please take a second and look past my colour,

Into the deep brown eyes so like my brothers,

And know that your future is not your past,

Neither is it the smoke you’re about to have,

It’s the addition of generations,

A compilation of thoughts, wisdom and a lack of retardation

This is a new generation,

Me.